In 2009, German choreographer Pina Bausch died, five days after a cancer diagnosis, and two days before filming was to start on a documentary about her art. The film was released earlier this year.

A classically trained ballet dancer for most of my life, I rarely find modern dance appealing, particularly Expressionist stuff, which seems haphazard and out of sync to my eyes. Bausch’s work, however, is so raw and vehement and strange that I find myself staring…for the entire documentary.

An interpretation of The Rite of Spring with a dirt-covered stage. Dancers outdoors, in a cafe, gleefully tipping over chairs. Kontakthof, performed in three variations, with three different ages, the last grey-haired and over the age of 65.

Much of the documentary is shot with the dancers outdoors, and sometimes the sun is too bright and the train is too loud, but the dancers throw themselves into each other anyways. Which is, I think, how a lot of life works.